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October 13, 2022


Traditional-style home from the Japanese animated movie My Neighbor Totoro

In my previous essay, we examined some of the philosophical differences at the root of Japanese material culture that allowed for resource efficiency in light of the geographic and socio-political circumstances the Japanese found themselves in during the pre-modern period. We also looked at a contrasting example of Japanese versus Western flower arranging and how the Japanese managed to get the same result (a beautiful flower arrangement) with much fewer resources. Today, we will look at some more mundane examples of Japanese resource efficiency and have some concluding thoughts on how this might be relevant to us today. 

In Everyday Things in Premodern Japan, author Susan B. Hanley examines Japanese material culture in the pre-modern period and goes beyond examining a generic “standard of living” to look at the level of physical well-being as communicated by material culture.

Hanley uses a simple example to illustrate what she means by this distinction, noting that the monetary price of a house tells us little about “how much space people had, the quality of the building, what resources were used, and what facilities were for cooking, heating, and sanitation…” Hanley argues that while the average income of a Japanese person in the 1860s was less than that of an English person in the prior century, the Japanese level of physical well being prior to industrialization was already equal to that of industrialized England.

In other words, the Japanese were living materially good and healthy lives that were on par with those living in industrialized England, despite consuming much fewer resources. This material efficiency eventually allowed Japan to industrialize relatively rapidly, since more resources could be dedicated to capital goods rather than an orgy of increased consumption once the country opened up to the West.  

Here are just a few of the many possible examples:

Kimonos

Most readers are likely familiar with the Japanese kimono, which is worn by both men and women. What is quite remarkable about the kimono is that unlike most Western clothing, it is made from one rectangular piece of cloth that has been cut into eight pieces, with no difference between men’s and women’s cuts. Even with the cuts, there is no waste and the entire length of cloth is used. Unlike Western clothing which is usually fitted for a specific individual, a kimono can be easily adjusted without any cutting or sewing to fit different individuals of different sizes. Similarly, the kimono used much less material overall than western style women’s clothing. Hanley notes that a kimono could be made using about half the material of a 19th century Western woman’s dress.

Thus, if we were to compare 19th century Japanese and American wealth on the basis of how much cloth was consumed, one may come away thinking that the Americans were twice as wealthy. Yet, at the end of the day, the more efficient Japanese style of dress was just as functional (or even more functional) as other styles.

The Japanese Diet

Similar efficiency can be seen in the Japanese largely vegetarian diet. This did not stem entirely from Buddhist proscriptions on the eating of meat, but rather, Haneley argues, in part from the fact that raising meat for consumption was very resource intensive.

Given that only about 15 percent of land in Japan was arable, raising meat for consumption would have meant that Japanese population growth and standards of living would have been impossible. In contrast to the West, where meat is often the center of the meal, rice was often the center of the meal in Japan. As you might guess, rice is a very efficient crop with high yields and a high seed to yield ratio. Rice, and the various other elements of the pre-Meiji meals, such as other grains, seafood and fish, Japanese radishes called daikons, and soybeans, provided nurishment and enjoyment for a growing population. (This all changed during the Meiji restoration once the Emperor began to eat meat, which the Japanese have since done with great gusto, which was possible due to technological innovation, economic growth, and trade with the outside world.)

The point is not to praise vegetarianism/pescetarianism, but rather to demonstrate how Japanese values influenced the trade-offs that were made in light of the material realities the society was faced with. 

Home Heating

Another fascinating Japanese innovation is related to housing and heating. During the rising prosperity of the Tokugawa era there was a great deal of innovation in the housing of commoners. While we do not have the space to explore this in great detail, as you might expect this innovation was marked by the already observed habits of material cleverness and thrift in both design and construction materials used. For instance, this era is when sliding Japanese walls and doors became very common to take advantage of spring and summer breezes, with housing construction utilizing sturdy yet resource-efficient designs and materials, such as framing techniques, paper walls, and plentiful bamboo.     

An example of particular note, however, is the Japanese method of winter heating. Hanely sums up the difference between Western and Japanese philosophies of heating as choosing to heat the air within a home versus choosing to heat the people within a home.

Rather than stoking a roaring fire in a chimney all winter long, the Japanese utilized the more efficient charcoal (fans of anime might recall that the protagonist of the popular show Demon Slayer comes from a family of charcoal burners) instead of wood. This charcoal was utilized in hibachi, an open charcoal burner; anka, an enclosed burner that might be put under the covers at the foot of a bed; or in kotasu, an enclosed burner placed under a table covered with a quilt. Hanely notes that Japanese houses were much less air-tight than Western-style homes, so there was little to no risk of asphyxiation.

Kotasu are still frequently used in Japan today, though with electric, not charcoal, heaters and are reportedly immensely cozy and have an added benefit of having family and friends congregate together. Consider this picture from the anime March Comes in Like a Lion, where a family is gathered together under the kotatsu and napping after a meal. Note also the space heater.  

Family gathered under the kotatsu and napping after a meal. Source: March Comes in Like a Lion


Why Does This Matter for us Today?
The point of briefly discussing just a few examples of everyday Japanese material thriftiness is not to argue that we should all tear out our central heating systems, become vegetarian, or adopt rice as the main component of our meals. Rather, it has been to demonstrate that the pre-modern Japanese were able to provide for their needs and live materially comfortable lives, despite their constrained resources. We can do the same today in America, though it will require a change in our values.

One simple area this can be applied is at the grocery store. Oftentimes people will prefer name brands to generic store brands, despite the store brands sometimes costing 50 percent less and being of similar quality. When I worked at a grocery store I would often tell customers that the only difference between the store-brand milk and the more expensive name-brand milk was the label on the bottle. Customers usually didn’t care.

If one has loads of cash laying around, then perhaps it doesn’t matter if you buy the name-brand milk. But as we discussed in the first essay in this series, many people are living paycheck to paycheck and struggling to get by financially, no matter their income level. No doubt some of this stress could be reduced if we were to change our values so that we bought less of the “name brand milk” in various areas of our lives. This would require some serious thought about the values that underlay our consumption choices, but it is probably worth considering.

These examples from Japanese history demonstrate how an emphasis on material functionality can conserve a lot of resources, while also adequately providing for the needs these material goods are meant to fill. A renewed emphasis on how well a good fulfills its intended function, rather than merely engaging in the ostentatious consumption that is at the root of lifestyle creep can go a long way in bringing one’s household finances under control and also provide some much-needed perspective on just how fortunate we are.

Zachary Yost is a freelance writer and researcher located in the Pittsburgh area. You can subscribe to his Substack, The Yost Post, here.

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